


The World Has Turned And Left Me Here

by aldreikynn



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Angst, Drift speaks hand, M/M, Spoilers, there is kissing in here
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-15
Updated: 2015-10-15
Packaged: 2018-04-01 13:53:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4022332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aldreikynn/pseuds/aldreikynn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pre-exile Drift/Rodimus. Mostly fluff, some funny bits, tons of all your favorite fanfic cliches.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOT NEW CHAPTERS IM JUST REpOSTING THESE BECAUSE IVE EDITED THEM A LOT

"You want me to _what_?" Rodimus whispered incredulously. "I'm sorry. I heard something that you couldn't have possibly said. What was that again?"

"It's not much of a request, Rodimus." Prowl sighed, almost sounding impatient. "All I am asking of you is to watch him for us. At least until we figure out what to do with him."

"Overlord. As in like, Overlord. The murderer, torturer, and war criminal. Who's supposed to be dead." 

"That would be him, yes," Prowl murmured, examining his hands absently.

"Does 'spark-suffocated-in-a-whiteout-vacuum' ring a bell? How is he alive?" Rodimus tried desperately to grasp the situation, casting worried glances at Drift, who sat by his side. "So he's alive, then, and you... Want him to be on my ship? On my ship. My ship that's going to be full of innocent and quite possibly vulnerable people. Let me think about it for a second," Rodimus paused, pretending to actually consider the notion. "Absolutely not. Why would you even- Why would you suggest that? Why would you need to keep him alive? Much less transport him on my ship, Prowl. What are you plotting?" Rodimus asked, pinching the bridge of his nose and shuttering his optics.

Prowl leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingers together as he spoke. "People say the war is really over. Finally, an end, after millions of years. Ask anyone who believes your hype." He watched Rodimus with that— that awful trademark Prowl look that only he can pull off with such accuracy. Rodimus had to resist the urges that screamed punch this smug afthole in the face, which proved to become more and more difficult the longer he stared at him. Prowl's optics were lulled in a state of almost audible mockery, and his mouth curled at the corners into the absolute most infuriating of smiles. Rodimus breathed deeply, air hissing out of his gritted teeth. "But me? I'm not pretending. There could be a Decepticon resurgence at any time. The war isn't over. It never will be."

"And Overlord plays into this... how?" Drift sighed, speaking up for Rodimus, who looked like he was about to stand up and punch a hole in the nearest wall.

"Isn't it obvious?" Prowl smirked.

Rodimus' frame tensed up. His optics widened and his lips pursed to hold in what could have been a string of profanities. Isn't it obvious. So god damned smug. Where do you get off, Prowl? "Overlord was— is— what many refer to as a 'phase-sixer'. Something about him makes him extraordinary."

"Get to the point, Prowl," Rodimus groaned.

Prowl's attention shifted patiently to Rodimus, the smug grin fading back into existential crossness."Of course. How could I have been so rude as to ramble. While you're staring at the ground. While I am speaking," he purred. Rodimus cocked his head backwards, suppressing a yell. "Eyes up here, please." Rodimus stared daggers directly at Prowl and gritted his teeth behind pursed lips. "Thank you. Now, as I was saying. Phase-sixers have something about them that makes them special. Maybe that special thing is that they're brilliant, maybe it's that they're strong, maybe just something that 'breaks the mold', as it were. What I want to do is: Crack Overlord open. See what makes phase-sixers so special. And, maybe, figure out how to make one for our side."

Rodimus let out a long sigh. "No." His vocalizer cracked as he spoke and he froze, knowing that Prowl would tear him apart for it.

"You're not scared, are you?" Prowl mocked, smirking at the soon-to-be captain. Rodimus flinched at the word. He wasn't scared. He was being completely rational. And not _scared_.

"You owe it to us. To me, to the Autobots... You're setting off on your own little fantasy adventure with your crew of misfits and ne'er-do-wells to search for the nonexistent— sorry, legendary— Knights of Cybertron," Drift grimaced as Prowl rambled. "Your lot just leaves me and Bumblebee and the rest here to clean up after the war. And you? You won't take on this tiny bit of responsibility. If I weren't as nice as I am, I suppose I'd call you a coward." Rodimus grit his teeth and clenched his fists, his frame tensing up.

"Out of line, Prowl." Drift hissed. "It's not cowardice, it's reason. Why in Primus' name would anyone even think for a second about agreeing to take Overlord aboard their ship?" He glanced over at Rodimus, who stared down at his servos in consideration. "Rodimus?" Rodimus met Drift's gaze, soon looking away and placing a hand to his mouth. "Absolutely not," Drift whispered. "Don't even think about saying yes to this. Do you realize how ridiculous this is? How fundamentally wrong agreeing to this would be on every possible level?"

"He called me a coward, Drift," Rodimus huffed quietly in reply.

"This is not about you, Rodimus!" Drift hissed. "You should have left your ego at the door. This is serious. Don't let him get to you."

"Drift! Look at him! _Listen_ to him! How could this not get to me!?"

"And this is exactly what he wants. You'll get mad and do something rash. Don't let him win."

"...I hate when you're right," Rodimus groaned, still speaking in a hushed tone to Drift. Prowl watched impatiently. He cleared his throat, calling back the attention of the two mechs in front of him. They turned their heads in synchronization to face him, optics wide and lips pursed.

"If you're done with your little lovers' quarrel, I'd like to shift the conversation back to the topic at hand," Prowl sighed. "I'll ask one more time. Consider it, Rodimus. If you're too scared, you can say no."

Drift glanced over to a fuming Rodimus, shaking his head very subtly. "I'll think about it." Rodimus stood up, and Drift did the same, ready to restrain him if he went to punch something (or someone). "We're leaving. Now."

"Consider my offer," Prowl sighed. "Get back to me soon."

"Right," Rodimus spat, not looking back as he stormed out of Prowl's office. Drift followed directly behind, hushing Rodimus as he murmured another string of unintelligible swearing.


	2. Chapter 2

"You're not seriously thinking about this, are you, Rodimus?" Drift sighed, shuffling down the corridor from Prowl's office and following Rodimus in close retinue.

"No. Of course not. Never," Rodimus lied. "I mean, Overlord? On my ship? What would we even have to gain from a phase-sixer anymore? We don't need to do any more fighting, do we? The war's over, whether Prowl wants to believe it or not. But..." Rodimus hesitated. "What if he's right?" Drift sighed, casting a conflicted glance downward at his pedes.

"As much as I hate to say this, Prowl does make a good point. The war might be over, yes, but the losing team might be a little unhappy with the results." He looked at the mech to his side, understanding glinting in his optics. "I know you're considering it. And I trust your judgement, Rodimus. Make whatever decision you think is best."

"I don't think I really know enough to decide yet," Rodimus groaned. "I'm assuming he won't just be a casual passenger... We have to talk to Prowl again. And I don't want to just walk back in there all like, 'Hey, Prowl! We changed our minds! Maybe taking in a murderer isn't that bad of an idea after all! Where do we sign?'. Because that's just letting him win. I don't want to let him win." He sighed deeply, holding a hand up to cover his face in worry. "God, just— The more I think about it, the less I want to let it happen. This whole situation is surreal."

"Rodimus, I want you to do what you think has to be done." The corridor fell silent, and Drift watched Rodimus patiently.

"I don't know what has to be done," Rodimus whined, covering his face. "He's trying to guilt me, you know. All that scrap about how I owe it to him, how I'm just... He thinks I'm running away, doesn't he? Bumblebee as well. They think I'm just dropping out now that there's work to be done back home." Rodimus grimaced. "Casting away the responsibility. But we don't belong here anymore, Drift. Cybertron's reborn or whatever, but..." He sighed, leaning backwards onto a corridor wall. He slipped down into an exasperated rest, pressing his digits into his temples. "I hate this, Drift. I hate how he won't just take me seriously for even a second."

"I know." Drift breathed as he sat down next to Rodimus. "He's wrong about you, at the very least, Rodimus." The swordsmech turned to Rodimus as he rested a hand on his thigh. "You're not weak. You're not a coward." He gave a heartfelt smile, meeting the other mech' gaze. Rodimus' frame tensed and a shiver trickled through his spinal strut as Drift leaned over and planted a quick kiss on a pointed finial.

"Drift!" Rodimus blushed, shooting a quick glance down the hallway. He turned back to face the swordsmech. The pair grinned mischievously as Rodimus snickered and locked optics with Drift, gesturing to his lap. Drift happily obliged, scooting over and resting between Rodimus' thighs. They still looked at each other as Drift's hands moved slowly to Rodimus' hips.

"Captain?" Drift sighed, smirking.

Rodimus' optics widened. "Oh man. That sounded nice. Say that again." He pressed his lips to Drift's, melting into a kiss. Drift broke away from the embrace for a moment, leaning in closer to Rodimus to whisper into his audial. They pressed their frames together, their biolights casting a gentle glow in the dim hallway.

"Captain," Drift whispered again.

Rodimus sighed and shuttered his optics. "Your voice is so beautiful, Drift," he whispered, his head lulling backwards as Drift teased at his neck cables with his tongue. "Keep talking."

" _Rodimus_ ," Drift breathed, practically moaning. Rodimus smiled as he heard the syllables of his name drip from Drift's mouth. He pulled Drift in closer. "Prowl can hear us," Drift sighed, straightening his spinal strut and running his digits along Rodimus' spoilers.

"I— Ew? Ew." His frame tensed again, and he pushed Drift away a bit. "Say things that aren't _that_." Rodimus hesitated, glancing again down the hallway. "Oh, god. He probably can... I bet he'll punch a wall or something if he sees two mechs he hates making out in the general proximity of his office."

Drift grinned. "Let's go do it on his desk."

"Oh my god. No," Rodimus laughed, touching Drift's hand as the swordsmech stood up. "He'll flip a table while we're still on it." Drift helped him to his feet. Rodimus glanced down the hall again, groaning as Prowl approached.

 

 

* * *

 

"Considering that you two found it necessary to linger near my office, I'd expect that you were planning on coming back to speak to me again?" Prowl said, eyes narrowed and arms crossed.

"Tell me, Prowl. Does that pole up your ass ever hurt you?" Drift snickered.

"Funny," Prowl returned flatly. "And yes, I could hear you. If you two ever bring your disgusting little... activities into my office, I will personally tear you limb from limb." 

Drift's face flushed bright pink. "Jealous?" Rodimus mocked, making dead eye contact with and air-thrust motions at Prowl. Drift smiled again, joining in with the air-thrust taunting. Both mechs made obnoxious exaggerated moans as Prowl sighed and covered his face with his hand.

"Juvenile," he mumbled. "You two seem to have forgotten you're here to discuss something that's actually important."

"Didn't forget. Just elected to ignore," Rodimus huffed. Drift had stopped the incredibly immature taunt, but Rodimus showed no signs of even yielding.

"C'mon, Roddy. That's probably enough," Drift whispered, stopping Rodimus with a quick jab to his waist with an elbow.

"Fine," Rodimus groaned in response, easing off the gesture. "So, Prowl. Anything else to convince us with?"

Prowl rolled his eyes. "Over the course of a few weeks, I've been collaborating with some other Autobots who are coming with you on your little adventure. We have a containment plan. Overlord will be confined to a slow cell attached to the lowest level of your ship, and kept as a secret to anyone not directly involved."

"Slow cell?"

"I've got a weapons engineer called Brainstorm working on it. He'll be part of your crew." Prowl paused. "Have fun getting used to him," he added sarcastically. "Anyway. The slow cell. I have no idea how it works, but the general premise is that time passes slower for anyone inside."

"Pretty sure that's impossible, but go on." Rodimus placed a hand tentatively to his mouth, glancing over to Drift, who watched Prowl intently.

"It's attachable to and detachable from the ship, in case emergency ejection is necessary. We've got some duobots willing to get him onboard discreetly."

"Duobots? Who else knows about this already?" Drift inquired, crossing his arms. "Retrospectively, you probably shouldn't have told people that Overlord's intact and functional until you were sure that everyone in your plan was willing to participate."

"I'm positive everyone'll be willing eventually, Drift," Prowl murmured. "Only a few select people know. You two, of course. Brainstorm, Chromedome... And the duobots. All of whom are leaving with you."

"What are we supposed to do with Overlord?" Rodimus asked. "Are we just holding him for you? Rather have him drifting through space than on Cybertron?"

"Not exactly, Rodimus," Prowl sighed. "You've met Chromedome, correct?"

"Yeah. Mnemosurgeon with the tiny data-slug conjunx?" Drift replied, making a height estimate gesture with his hand. "Yes." Prowl grimaced. "I've tried to convince him to use his magic fingers on Overlord. Crack him open, memories and inner workings of the mind and all. Chromedome says he's given that up. What I'm hoping is going to happen is; you begin your quest with Overlord in the 'basement,' and eventually bring Chromedome around into... participating."

"Sounds really dangerous," Rodimus remarked. "Sticking your fingers in the back of the neck of Overlord. While he's still alive. That's something you can't even ask of someone with a death wish."

"It's absolutely dangerous. Less so for an expert like Chromedome, though. The nutter building the slow cell insisted on naming this endeavour Project: Total Insanity, or... Damn, what was the other one? Project: Asking for Trouble. Clever," Prowl muttered.

Rodimus still looked apprehensive, casting a quick look at Drift, who was staring at his pedes again. "And you're sure there's no way he could possibly kill anyone?"

"Positive. The slow cell is locked with a code that'll be given to two people at a maximum."

"Okay," Rodimus sighed.

" _Okay_ what?"

" _Okay_ , I'll do it." He looked up at Prowl. "You're right." It hurt to admit. "We... we might need a phase-sixer someday."

"Fantastic," Prowl sneered, placing a hand on Rodimus' shoulder and grinning in that disgustingly mocking way. "Glad to see that you've got enough steel to be able to take on _some_ responsibility."

"Shut up before I change my mind," Rodimus hissed through gritted teeth. Drift turned slowly to look at him with narrowed optics, shouting "calm down" without using his voice. He eased from his almost immediate fury, letting out a sigh. "I won't regret this, will I?"

"Of course not. The duobots'll have him attached before launch, and Brainstorm will take care of the rest. All you two have to do is keep it secret, and bring Chromedome up to speed at some point."

Drift raised a hand quietly. "Two questions." He paused, letting Prowl turn his attention to him. "What if we can't get Chromedome to do it?"

"You will. Or, rather, you'd better." Rodimus and Drift exchanged a worried glance, letting an extremely awkward silence pause the conversation.

"Fair enough," Drift continued. "Second question." A silence struck, because the question almost begged itself. "What if something goes wrong?"

Prowl only shrugged. "That's your problem to deal with, now isn't it?" Drift and Rodimus looked at each other for a moment, a vague sense of fear in their eyes. They were both reconsidering, but it seemed as though it was a bit too late for that.

"Right. Okay, then, um..." Rodimus stuttered, standing to leave.

"Good luck, Rodimus," Prowl sighed.

"Excuse me?" "On your quest. Good luck. You'll need it, I think."

"Huh. I never expected you to say anything nice to me ever, but, uh. Thanks. Good luck to you as well. Rebuilding Cybertron and all."

"Thank you." Rodimus jerked a thumb to the exit further down the corridor. "Should we leave? Or did you need anything else?"

"You can leave. _Please_ leave, actually." Prowl shuttered his optics and shooed them with one hand. "Don't screw me on this, boys."

"Got it," Rodimus confirmed, nodding hastily and starting to move towards the door with Drift. "See ya."


	3. Chapter 3

Rodimus hated his office. It was too goddamned serious, bordering on unapproachable. Dull colors, boring decor, a distinct lack of some kind of necessary flair. He leaned back in his chair, tossing loose screws from the ship's floor plating into a cup his desk absently. Words rattled in his head. _Coward. Responsibility. Running._ He didn't even realize how hard he was throwing until something hit the cup's rim, and it fell down and hit the floor with a clang.

Rodimus muttered to himself and went to pick it up, freezing as Drift glanced at him from the doorway. Primus. Drift really seemed to just appear out of thin air sometimes. "Do you think you did the right thing?" Drift asked calmly.

Rodimus sighed. "I don't know." He hesitated. " _Yes_?" Rodimus choked unconvincingly, drawing out the word and scrunching his face up a little in a nervous smile. He still sounded unsure, his usual wall of smug confidence knocked down for one reason or another. Rodimus usually felt comfortable around Drift. Something about the swordsmech kept him honest.

"I don't know why Prowl invites me to those meetings anyway. It's not like he likes me. I can understand why he wouldn't," Drift huffed as he examined his hands.

"You _are_ third in command, to be fair." Rodimus cocked his head a little, still kneeling and picking things up.

" _Third_. What about second? Why invite me and not Ultra Magnus?"

"You know how he gets. There's no way Magnus would greenlight this. As much as I hate Prowl, I'll admit that he knows what he's doing."

"Ugh. True." Drift made a face.

"Prowl thinks I'm scared, you know." Rodimus hesitated, crossing his arms over his waist. "Of course I'm scared! How could I not be absolutely terrified?! Overlord is alive, and entrusted to my care. If he even moves— or, God forbid, he gets out— it's on my head."

"You're being irrational, Rodimus." Drift leaned down to help his captain pick up the pens and scraps that had spilled from the cup. "And far too hard on yourself."

"Irrational. Thanks, Drift. Another word. Coward. Responsibility. Running. _Irrational_." Rodimus grumbled under his breath.

"I didn't mean it like... You're not irrational. This is irrational. Knocking things over, almost fighting Prowl-" "

I wasn't trying to knock that over. It just kind of happened." Rodimus slammed the cup upright, dropping things in with satisfying little noises.

"You don't even seem to realize how tense you are." Drift straightened his spinal struts and gestured to Rodimus to do the same. "Here." He placed his hands over his chest and shuttered his optics, implying again for Rodimus to mimic him. "Focus on me. Block out everything except my voice."

Rodimus huffed and complied, shuttering his optics as Drift had requested. "This is stupid."

Drift had started humming. "Shush. Block out distractions, push away your intrusive thoughts, concentrate on your spark's pulsing, listen to the quiet clicks and whirrs of your body..." His voice had lowered to a whisper. After some deliberation, Rodimus allowed himself to follow Drift's instruction. His servos loosened, his frame relaxed, and he found himself humming along with Drift. It went on like that for a while. Rodimus stopped counting how long they meditated. Drift was right, though. It was therapeutic, just sitting together. It was also, like, super cheesy, but it therapeutic nonetheless. "

This is nice, actually." Rodimus sat comfortably with his hands folded in his lap. "You're nice. Too nice to me, probably."

"Shhh. We're not done yet."

"Can we be done soon? My knees are getting sore from being crossed so long and it sucks. How long've we been doing this, anyway?"

Drift's optics stayed shuttered, but a barely noticeable smile crossed his lips. "An hour, sixteen minutes, and forty three seconds." Without skipping a beat. He stifled a quiet laugh.

"No way. You're lying." Rodimus immediately shifted from his position, stretching his legs out and propping himself up with his servos behind his back. "There is no way we've been doing this for longer than, like, ten minutes tops."

"...Okay. A little less than half an hour. I might have exaggerated a little," Drift laughed. "You can be done now."

"That's still way too long to just sit down and hum."

"That's not all it is. It's a quiet reflection on the self— you're letting yourself assimilate fully into your own being. You learn to listen to yourself in a way no one else possibly could."

"How long do you usually do this?" Rodimus whined, standing up and stretching. "Hours. It varies, but _hours_."

"No way. I couldn't do that." Rodimus grabbed the cup off the floor and set it back on his desk. "Don't you get bored?"

"Not anymore. It used to be boring, and I'd get sore and give up after a while, but now it comes so naturally. Practice and learning routines and all that, you know?" He stood up gracefully, rising from a cross-legged sit to a perfectly postured stand like a goddamned ballerina.

"How are you so chill?" Rodimus sighed.

"Pardon?" Drift didn't actually need to stretch, but he did anyway. Probably to make Rodimus feel better.

"You're so relaxed. And calm! And, like, reasonable and positive and stuff. How do you do that?"

"Uh... Hm. I guess just some mixture of..." He made rolling gesture with his hands. "I don't know how to describe it. Faith and meditation, for sure."

"That's cool. Sounds like a lot of commitment, too." Rodimus paused, staring down his pedes quietly. "I admire you a lot, Drift."

"Pfft." He gave the other mech a warm look and a gentle smile. "And I you, Rodimus." Drift grabbed Rodimus by both hands and kissed him quickly.

"God. This is so sappy. I can't believe how sappy we are," Rodimus laughed. "Holding hands and everything."

"I know." Drift looked down to his hands, still intertwined with Rodimus'. "You haven't let go, though."

"Nope." Rodimus kissed Drift's finial lazily. Drift grinned, nuzzling Rodimus' cheek.

"Let me show you something." Drift pulled his head away, adjusting his fingers and putting them delicately between his captain's. He moved his fingers in swift, elegant motions, and watched Rodimus expectantly.

"Okay, I know a little hand." Rodimus shifted confidently, still holding Drift's hands. "The first word was definitely _I._ Not sure about the second, and the third was, uh... Do that one again." Drift moved his fingers again more carefully. Rodimus focused on the gesture. _You_. " _I_ something _you_." Rodimus smiled. "Considering this is one of the sappiest and most unbelievably cliché moments I've ever partaken in, I'm gonna guess the middle one was _love?_ " Drift signed something again. " _Yes_?" The swordsmech smiled and nodded. "Do the whole thing again. More slowly this time. I'm gonna try it."

 _I love you_. Drift repeated the presses and hand rolls again. He did the motions more deliberately, as if he were only explaining it instead of really saying it. "No matter how much it seems like I'm just showing you how to say this, Rodimus, I mean it every time, okay?"

"Oh, shut up. I know." Rodimus rolled his wrists, biting his lip and delivering three sloppy gestures. Drift stifled a laugh. "What? I'm at least close, right?" Drift shook his head and signed it again a few times. Rodimus repeated it after him, eventually refining his movements. Drift nodded after Rodimus signed a nearly flawless _I love you_. He blended the signs together over and over again, grinning. _I love you love you love I love you._

"Here. This one is my name." Drift made a very quick movement with his digits.

"So that's _Drift_?" Rodimus made the motion again with his hands.

Drift paused and nodded, repeating the gesture again for good measure."Not _Drift_ exactly, but if you press your thumb down like we're doing, it's a name. I just picked a word." Drift smiled. "I picked a silly word. It's faster than spelling it, y'know. You could pick anything, and do the thumb thing and—" He signed it again quickly. " _Drift_."

"Cool. That's a word though, right? What word is it?" Rodimus repeated the name with his hands again. He signed _I love you, Drift_ over and over. Drift signed it again, glancing down at their hands.

"It means _unforgivable_. I had to pick something different after I was _Deadlock_ , and there wasn't a sign for Drift, so... Unforgivable came to mind pretty quickly. Sometimes I forget what the sign actually means, and introduce myself as _unforgivable_ and get weird looks in return. Like, it's just become so synonymous with _me—_ Deadlock, I mean— that I... Yeah." Rodimus made a face.

"That doesn't fit you at all. You can change it, right?"

"Well... Yeah. I mean, it's just the symbol you express the idea of you with," Drift explained, pressing his thumbs down pensively.

"How do you do, uh... What's the thing for friend?" He spun his fingers idly between Drift's. Drift stiffened. He hesitated, signing it slowly. _Friend_.

"This one. It doesn't fit either, though."

"How about... _Important_?" Rodimus made a very sloppy rendition of the sign for important with his fingers.

"That doesn't fit either. You don't have to do this, Rodimus, I..." Drift looked away for a moment, biting his lip.

"Oh. I know a good one. How do you do _forgiven_?" Drift's optics widened and he held his breath, signing it and letting the motions flow through his hands naturally. Rodimus clicked his fingers with Drift's gently, pressing down his thumbs as Drift had showed him and repeating the gestures Drift had made.

"Oh." Drift blushed and released Rodimus' hands, covering his mouth. "Yeah. That's... That's good." He leaned forward, burying his face in Rodimus' shoulder. "That's perfect."


	4. Chapter 4

 

"Drift, you really don't have to write this stuff for me." Rodimus pushed away the datapad Drift tried to hand to him as they rushed through crowded masses of non-aligned civilians.

"Why not? Your speeches are grandiose, sure, but they're all just improvised pandering. You could use my help, and you know you could use my help, but you're stubborn, so you don't take it."

Rodimus opened his mouth to protest before realizing that Drift was absolutely right as usual and shutting up. "I can't believe we're canvassing. Optimus didn't have to canvass."

"Optimus didn't have to canvass because there were three options. Try not to die with one badge, try not to die with a different badge, or try not to die alone."

"...True." They stopped occasionally, promoting their quest with little messages Drift wrote and got Rodimus to begrudgingly memorize. Both mechs had decent people skills, albeit very different approaches to them. Drift tended to stick to the material without much lenience, because people did really just hang on his every word. Rodimus tended to play to strengths and weaknesses he saw in his audience, but how well he detected them was up for debate. If you asked Rodimus on a good day, or Drift while Rodimus was nearby, he was quite possibly one of the most charismatic and likeable Cybertronians in history.

Drift spoke eloquently, with some sort of aura about him that eased people into conversation. He'd intimately learned the ins and outs of at least seven languages, as far as Rodimus knew. He'd talked about it before. He said he wanted to learn about languages and cultures rather than taking advantage of the universal translator Cybertronians are used to. Rodimus thought it was dorky, and one of the cutest things he'd ever heard.

Drift jerked his head in the general direction of to two mechs speaking hand in a corner. He grinned and encouraged Rodimus towards them with his elbow, and Rodimus shook his head in protest. "No way. _Nooooo_ way." He shoved Drift towards them. "I don't know nearly enough to convince anyone of _anything_ in hand. You do this. I’ll end up accidentally threatening them with robbery or something."

"Okay, okay." Drift shrugged Rodimus off, walking confidently towards the two chirolingual neutrals. He nodded at them, smiling warmly. The swordsmech sat down at an empty seat and laid his hands down on the table. One of the other mechs at the table nodded back acknowledging Drift's greeting. Rodimus watched, mesmerized. Their motions were so fluid and concise, clear enough to pick up a word or two. He saw Drift press his thumb down and sign forgiven, with the confidence of someone who'd done it for centuries.

Rodimus smiled, watching Drift's movements in awe. Even thinking about the concept of Drift drowned out everything else. All the sounds and nudges of the crowds gone, everything tunnel-visioned out except... Him. Drift was fascinating. Even when he just sat waiting for a response from his conversation partner, he was captivating. His posture, his face... He signed a thank you and then a goodbye, and stood up with a respectful nod. A disgruntled passerby elbowed Rodimus sharply, figuratively and literally shoving him back into reality. He had hardly realized the grunts and unsubtle move over's while watching Drift's hands. Drift walked back to where Rodimus stood with a huff.

"They weren't interested, but they said they'd tell some friends. Good to practice hand, though."

"You're so good at it! I could see your hands. They moved so fast, it was just... Wow." Rodimus paused. "Did using a new name feel different?"

"Heh. You noticed, then?" Drift smiled. "It felt different. A good different, though. Like, I fixed something that was broken." He rubbed the other mech's arm affectionately. "Or you did, I guess."

“Pfft.” Rodimus pressed a quick kiss to one of Drift’s finials.

“So what else do we need to do today? I mean, I’m already sick of advertising the quest with walking around and… Canvassing. It’s unnecessary. Anyone who’s going will come after the speech.”

“Which is going to need to be delivered soon, Rodimus. If I were you, I'd skim what I wrote for you, because I know you’re going up there and winging it.” Drift pressed the datapad against Rodimus’ chest.

“Yes! I’m gonna wing it, and it’s gonna be great,” Rodimus huffed, handing back the datapad. “Are we doing anything other than promotional campaigning today?”

“Well, I mean, considering this is a rather densely populated commercial area, we could do some shopping? There isn’t any actual work left. We’ve got some time to do whatever.” Drift pulled Rodimus out of the flow of people walking, finding a quieter spot to stand together.

“Cool.” Rodimus smiled. “I kinda want to get something for my office. It’s really empty and boring. I want some color. I’m thinking pink.”

“That’s pretty badass,” Drift gushed in reply.

“I know, right? Pink. And flames. It’s gonna be so cool.” Rodimus paused. “We could paint it together?”

“Rodimus...” Drift grinned. “That sounds so fun! Yes.” He grabbed Rodimus by the hand, leading him through crowds of people. Rodimus didn’t even know how he felt towards Drift. He knew he really liked him, at the very least. Rodimus admired Drift a lot, and liked spending time with him— hell, even thinking about him.

Their hands were twisted closely together, and Rodimus just stared down at them. Now that he was thinking about it, he did love Drift in one way or another. They both said they loved each other fairly often, and they both knew they meant it in some type of kind of way. It was definitely platonic, though. Right? Yeah. Like, some kind of friends-with-benefits sort of deal. With more affection, and admiration, and mutual trust and caring and… _Oh, God dammit._

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

"Rodimus, are you in a relationship with Drift?" Ultra Magnus sat across from Rodimus, hands resting on the desk and mouth pressed in a perpetual neutral line.

"Relationship?” Rodimus reeled backwards. “No, Magnus. Nope. We're just friends." He scratched at his desk idly with the tip of a pen. The surface was almost completely clean, but Rodimus planned to cover it with some sick flames and stars.

"Just friends. Just friends who showcase several public displays of affection. And do... Other unprofessional personal activities. Casually and often."

"Yes! It's like, definitely platonic—" Rodimus froze. "Wait. How do you know about the... What do you mean unprofessional personal whatever?"

"Remember when you wrote 'Rodimus was here' on Drift's inner thigh and it was there for two days? You're not exactly subtle about it."

"...Touché." Rodimus sighed deeply, covering his face with his hands. "Oh my God. I'm in love with him."

"And this is bad because...?"

"Because I'm not supposed to be in love with him! We're supposed to be just... I don't know! Best friends! Like, best friends with benefits or something, or– Primus, I can't believe I fell in love with him. When did that happen?!"

"Really, I'm just surprised you didn't notice sooner," Magnus mused, re-angling the stray pens on Rodimus' desk. Rodimus made an indignant face and made them uneven again. "What did you think it was?"

"Something like... Some kind of hyper-platonic _something._ " Rodimus covered his face again and let out a whine. "Does Drift know how you feel?" Magnus wasn’t particularly good at being sympathetic, but he gave an effort nonetheless.

"I mean... I'm sure he does. But..." Rodimus sighed. "Nevermind. I don't want to tell him. It would be weird."

"How so?" Magnus tried once more to straighten the pens, again being vetoed by Rodimus' over-the-top rebellious spirit. "You're very affectionate towards each other. It wouldn't be weird, it's a sensible progression of a relationship."

"Stop saying relationship. It's just... It's just something. It's not a relationship, and I don't know if I want it to be."

“Do you want to just keep doing what you’re doing now, then?”

“No! No. I want to, like… I don’t know. I don’t know what I want to do.”

“Straighten your back, for starters,” Magnus sighed. Rodimus’ optics widened and he sighed, too, fixing his posture. “If I were you, I would just tell him, but I’m not much of a romantic.”

“No scrap,” Rodimus groaned. "I don't know if I should, though. I don't want to make anything awkward."

"Would it make you feel better to tell him?" Rodimus made a face, hesitating. "...Yes?" He crossed his arms and looked at the ground.

"Then do it. It's fairly simple." Ultra Magnus moved a pen again, and Rodimus didn't notice. He celebrated silently to himself.

"You really don't understand this kind of thing, do you?" Rodimus sighed.

Magnus shrugged. "I never saw the appeal."


	5. Chapter 5

A few months had passed, and the quest seemed to be going well enough. Minus a few deaths, anyway. Rodimus had lost his arms at least twice. In recent Drift-related news, he had left to accompany Ratchet and Pipes on a little expedition to a medical outpost on Delphi. It had been a while since Rodimus walked the halls of his ship without Drift next to him.

He didn't feel particularly lonely or anything, it just felt like... Something important was missing. Rodimus hated when Drift was gone. He was tenser without him. More irritable, and definitely much more prone to remembering that he was actually a really terrible person. A lot less work got done without Drift there to pat him on the back after anything that even vaguely resembled progress. Magnus tended to yell at him more.

It was refreshing, though, not having to see Drift every day and wonder 'should I tell you that I'm in love with you for real or just keep it as some kind of cloudy and vague platonic hell forever' every time they looked at each other. Rodimus had decided to take the time Drift was gone to formulate some kind of a plan to tell him. Like, ask him out on a proper date or something. That would work, right?

Yeah.

Cool.

 

* * *

 

Was it weird to be waiting for a shuttle to come in? Like, if you're the captain of a ship and you're in the shuttle bay an hour before anyone's supposed to arrive, people are gonna expect you to do that for everyone. Rodimus tried to look like he was there doing something and not just waiting. Eventually, though, the crewmates who had gone to Delphi docked back onto the Lost Light.

"Welcome back!" Rodimus greeted Drift and the others as they stepped off the shuttle. The swordsmech looked radiant, as usual. Pipes and Ratchet followed close after, along with a couple of vaguely familiar medics and– Fortress Maximus. Holy shit. Rodimus decided he just wouldn't ask until it was relevant. "You feel okay?" Rodimus' optics softened and he reached out for Drift's hand.Drift moved his hand away, and Rodimus was sure it was because he didn't notice he was trying to hold it.

"Yeah. That was just super intense. Pharma's gonna be in my nightmares for weeks."

"I've heard he's absolutely out of his mind," Rodimus offered. "Yes. Very much so," Drift nodded without hesitation. "Turns out he was killing his patients. Ratchet said it was something to do with, like, the DJD and transformation cogs and some wild engineered disease."

"That's... Wow. Okay." Rodimus' optics widened and he glanced down at the floor. "So. Fortress Maximus?" He jerked his thumb nonchalantly over at the enormous apparent addition to his crew.

"Yeah! How about that?" Drift laughed a little. "Some others, as well." He pointed to the other mechs. "First Aid, Ambulon..."

"Part of your crew, now." Ratchet slapped an unfamiliar blue hand on Rodimus' shoulder. "Delphi's outpost is kind of null and void, so they don't really have anywhere else to go. Hope you don't mind."

"Not at all." Rodimus watched as Ratchet led the other Autobots to the medbay, waving and nodding respectfully to the new crewmates. " _Whose hands are those_?" Rodimus mouthed to Drift as they passed.

"Pharma's. Don't worry about it," Drift mumbled in reply.

"Um. Alright, then." Rodimus looked down at the floor, rubbing the back of his neck idly. "So uh... D'you wanna head back to my habsuite and hang out for a while?"

"Sure. I could use some down time." Drift stretched his servos a little, looking around and getting reaccustomed to the Lost Light.

"Great." Rodimus beamed. "Cool. We could, like... I wanna, um... Meditate with you or something"

Drift froze. "Wow." He beamed, rubbing Rodimus' servo. "You must have missed me a lot, huh?"

"Yes," Rodimus blurted out without hesitation. Curse his nonexistent speech filter. "Sorry. Is that weird? I'm sorry if that's weird."

"You seem really tense. Are you okay?" Drift looked over to Rodimus, a modicum of concern in his expression. "Fine! I'm fine." _I'm in love with you for real and it's tearing my spark to pieces to not know if you know it or feel the same way._ "Just glad you're back, is all."

"I'm glad I'm back, too." Drift smiled, kissing Rodimus on a finial. "Missed you." Rodimus' face flushed bright pink. What changed? _What changed_ that made him fall to pieces when they did stuff together that they'd always done? Like, the kissing and casual interfacing and stuff was gonna be so much weirder now that he actually felt something. He needed to tell Drift. Soon.

They walked hand-in-hand together back to Rodimus' habsuite. Rodimus was almost physically shaking. Drift's peaceful smile, his comforting presence, his beautiful frame... Rodimus was about to lose it. He pressed his lips together, unlocking the door to his room. "Could you just stand out here for a second?" Rodimus whined. "I need to, uh... Just stay here."

Drift looked puzzled. "Oh. Sure. Did I do anything wrong?"

"No! No. I just need a second." Rodimus stepped into his habsuite, closing the door.

"Okay!" Drift's voice was still barely audible from outside. Rodimus picked up a decorative throw pillow he'd bought to adorn his boring room. He glanced at it for a moment and pressed his face into it. He just screamed into the pillow for a moment, trying to keep it at least a little muffled and quiet.

"Oh my god, Rodimus, are you okay?" Rodimus opened the door again, supporting himself with a servo as he cool-guy-leaned on a wall, and tossed the pillow backwards with his free hand. "I'm fine! So, tell me more about Delphi!"

Drift gave Rodimus a concerned look. "Delphi was fine. Intense, but fine. I almost died and I had to cut Pharma's hands off. But you just screamed, Rodimus. Are you okay?"

"That does sound really intense. Wow." Rodimus looked away for a moment. "I'm okay, sorry. I'm just kind of... Nevermind."

"Kind of what?" Drift asked. They sat down next to each other, and Drift set his hand on Rodimus' comfortingly. "Kind of... stressed." Nice save, Rodders. "D'you wanna go get a drink with me tonight or something? Swerve started up a bar in the engex distillery I didn't know we had. I've heard the place is kind of scummy, but a drink would be nice."

"I don't drink anymore, Rodimus," Drift reminded him.

"No, I know. You don't have to. I do, though, and I kinda just wanted to hang out with you somewhere," Rodimus said, almost shyly.

"Sounds fine to me."

Drift stood up, pulling Rodimus to his feet as well. "Cool! It's a date, then." Rodimus froze. "Not like, a date date, obviously, but... God. I'm so sorry."

"What? Don't be sorry. It is kind of a date. I mean, we're practically dating anyway." Drift smiled. Rodimus gave a forced laugh.

"Yeah! Us. Dating. Hilarious, right?"

"...Is there something else you wanted to tell me, Rodimus?" Drift asked, watching Rodimus' face as he blushed bright pink. Rodimus hesitated. Thoughts raced through his mind, but finally his impulsive side took control. "I think I'm in love with you?" Drift's optics widened, and his frame tensed. Rodimus sighed, covering his face. "Like, I've told you I love you and like, and done all that gross stuff with you, but... I'm like, really, properly in love with you."

Drift sat quietly for a few seconds."Oh."

" _Yeah_. And I think this was only supposed to be like, a no-strings-attached-friends-with-benefits kind of thing, so I'm... I'm really sorry."

"No, it's okay! It's fine. I... I kind of already knew, in a way, I guess. It's okay. It's really okay." Drift paused. "I love you, too, Rodimus."

"I know you do." Rodimus sighed, looking down at the floor. "Do you wanna like, actually date? I mean, like you said, we're... Basically already dating." Rodimus let out another awkward laugh.

"Yes!" Drift smiled, wrapping his arms around Rodimus. "Yes."

"Cool." Rodimus gave a long sigh of relief. "So. Bar? Tonight? As a real, proper date?"

"Sure," Drift confirmed. "I love you, Rodimus."

"I love you, too." It felt refreshing. Hearing those words and knowing that Drift meant them in a way Rodimus hadn't felt them to mean in a long while. "Thank you."

"Hm?" Drift's head rested on Rodimus' shoulder. Rodimus looked down at him with a look of peaceful satisfaction. "Thank you for being you, I guess," Rodimus mused. "You're so... unique? I don't know what it is. You're just... You." He kissed Drift's forehead. "I love everything about you."

"You too, Rodimus." Drift looked up at Rodimus, smiling. "I think we should just stay here awhile. Skip the bar for the night and just sleep together." He froze. "Not like, _sleep together_ sleep together, but..." Drift covered his face and gave a quiet laugh. "You know what I mean."

"That sounds fine. I haven't really done anything today except wait for you to come back– I know, that's super cheesy– so I'm not very tired, per se." Rodimus paused. "I'm more than happy to let you fall asleep with your head in my lap, though. That would be really nice."

"Cool." Drift synthesized a yawn. "Cutting off Pharma's hands and almost having my optics melt out of my skull because of a freaky disease bomb was pretty exhausting. I'll be out cold in a few minutes."

"Primus. That sounds like hell."

"It totally was." Drift rested his head in Rodimus' lap, looking up at the other mech sleepily. "I'm back now, though, and I'm with you, so everything's golden." He poked Rodimus' flame-embellished chest and smiled.

"Ha. Nice one." Rodimus caressed Drift's frame gently, tracing a finger around his seams and admiring some of his little details. "So we're... Heh. Boyfriends now, huh?" Rodimus grinned. The word felt tingly to say. "My boyfriend, Drift. That sounds so nice."

"My boyfriend, Rodimus," Drift echoed, grinning as well. "You're such a dork."

"Shut up," Rodimus laughed. "Go to sleep, Drift."

"Pfft. Fine. Goodnight, Rodimus. I love you."

"I love you, too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Mandatory "boyfriend isn't the right term. I know.")


	6. Chapter 6

Rodimus stirred as he woke, greeted by a peacefully smiling Drift. They'd shifted a little during recharge. Rodimus' frame was sprawled out over the berth in a wild loose pose, with a leg draped over the side. Drift was curled up close to Rodimus, his head resting serenely on his chest. One of Rodimus' servos was still wrapped around Drift, and Rodimus pulled the swordsmech closer to him. He kissed Drift's helm gently, rolling over to face him and moving his hands down to his hips.

"Hey." Rodimus smiled, tracing Drift's biolights gently. "Morning."

"Hey, Rodimus," Drift laughed quietly, checking the time. It was certainly not morning. He elected not to tell Rodimus. "Good morning." Drift kissed Rodimus' cheek, moving quickly to his lips. Rodimus laughed a little in response, optics widening as Drift kissed him and wrapped his arms around his waist. He shuttered his optics and loosened his grip, letting Drift roll over on top of him. The swordsmech pinned him down, kneeling with his legs spread over Rodimus' waist. His hands wandered to Rodimus' hands and their fingers intertwined in some fierce kind of lust as Drift rolled his whole frame into the embrace, shuttering his optics and letting out a quiet whine as Rodimus' tongue touched his. Drift's pointed dentae teased Rodimus' lip, prompting Rodimus to jolt up a little bit. Drift backed off, concerned.

"Wait. Wait! Dude! It's like six in the morning! Are we doing this already?!" Rodimus gave Drift a look of surprised enthusiasm.

"Actually? The shuttle got back this morning. We just kind of took a nap. It's not even tomorrow yet, it's only, like, 9:30." Drift grinned. "And... Yeah, I guess? If you're okay with that?"

"Oh. Um. Sure?" Rodimus wrapped his arms around the swordsmech's waist, smirking and pulling Drift back down. He kissed his lips again, rolling his fingers around idly on Drift's back. Drift's thighs pressed together a little over Rodimus, and the captain felt a rush of smug pride. He rolled his hips up into Drift's, prompting another huff. Drift whined, rolling his frame down again. "Wait. Drift?" Rodimus paused again, pushing Drift away a little. "Hold on a minute, uh-"

"Hm?" Drift paused again. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, nothing, just, um..." Rodimus looked away a little as Drift moved off of him. "I don't really want to, uh... Yeah. At least not right now. Later?"

"Oh! Oh. Okay. That's totally fine, Roddy." Drift moved to sit next to Rodimus in a relaxed kneel. He rested an arm on his thigh, touching Rodimus' hand gently with his free hand. "I, uh... Sorry."

"No, it's fine. It's okay. I'm usually so enthusiastic about this stuff, but... I'm just being weird about it, I guess. Dunno why." Rodimus smiled as Drift's digits ran smoothly across his hand. "We can go again later?"

"Okay. Don't feel pushed into to doing anything, bro." Drift kissed Rodimus' helm and moved calmly off the berth.

"Pfft. Thanks for being cool about it." Rodimus looked over at Drift as he stood up, watching in the same sort of awe he always felt as the swordsmech did anything.

"Of course. It would have been kinda terrible of me not to listen, y'know?" Drift's biolights cast a gentle glow over Rodimus' habsuite as he wandered over to turn on the room's lights. He switched them on and Rodimus immediately cringed and groaned, his optics adjusting slowly to the sudden change. Drift stifled a laugh. "What time is it again?" Rodimus couldn't be arsed to check his own clock, and Drift seemed to be on top of everything most of the time. Despite totally being a bottom.

"Almost ten." Drift pulled Rodimus up off the berth effortlessly, the corners of his mouth eased into his usual resting gentle smile. "Before we passed out, you mentioned 'a real, proper date'?"

Rodimus nodded in response, jerking his thumb at the door. "Yeah. There's a bar somewhere on this ship now, apparently. And, uh, I know you don't drink, so... We can just hang out, I guess? I'll try not to get too wasted."

"Honestly? I'd really appreciate if you didn't drink at all." Drift's optics softened. "At least not tonight. For me. You tend to leave the concept of a responsible limit at the door."

"Pfft. No, it's fine." Rodimus brushed away Drift's concerns, and the swordsmech frowned. "...Am I that bad?" Drift looked away a little, hesitating. "You're just _weird_ when you're drunk. Louder, even more prone to stupid bets, even worse at decision-making..."

"Shut up, dude." Rodimus scoffed. He paused immediately, looking away. "I'm sorry. That was kind of rude." He looked back at Drift and slugged his arm playfully. "It's not that big of a deal, anyway. That's how everyone gets."

"I'm serious, Rodimus. I don't care if 'that's how everyone gets'. I don't like it." Drift jerked Rodimus' hand away. "Just... Not tonight. This is our first date as... Whatever we are now. Do this for me. Your _whatever_."

"...Okay." Rodimus huffed. "Love you."

"I love you too, Rodimus." Drift made eye contact with Rodimus for a brief moment, looking away quickly. "This is sort of awkward, huh?"

"Yeah," Rodimus responded immediately. "Sorry about that."

"You're fine." Drift sighed. He leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to Rodimus' cheek. "We're cool, then?"

"We're cool." Rodimus slid his visor down and did a little pistol finger gesture, accompanied as it always was with his douchey smirk. " _So_ cool."

Drift rolled his optics and couldn't help but laugh. "You're being a loser on purpose, right?"

Rodimus gave a sharp, exaggerated gasp. "A _loser_? Drift! I'm hurt." He put a hand to his chest and frowned, his optics still covered by his visor.

"I bet you don't have the guts to keep those nightmarishly silly things on during a date," Drift laughed.

"Drift, bro, if you're willing to put money on that, you don't know me very well." Rodimus gave a cocky smirk. "I'm putting them up, though. You're right. They're dorky." He slid them back up and laughed a little bit.

"Pfft. Good." Rodimus was immeasurably happy. This was fantastic. Drift was cool with actually dating (or whatever) and apparently returned some feeling at least a little similar to what Rodimus felt towards him. He dropped a vaguely Drift-is-angry topic fairly quickly, and they were about to actually go on their first legitimate date. Awesome.

"So?" Rodimus gestured to the door, reaching for Drift's hand. Drift smiled and held Rodimus' hand eagerly. He pressed a quick kiss to Rodimus' cheek as they left the room.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Word of mouth was correct, actually. Swerve's, as no one called it, was scummy and not a whole lot to write home about. It was something, though, and as Drift and Rodimus walked into the place together they eased into the atmosphere. The only color in the space at all emanated in low neon waves from the engex stores and echoed off the glossy countertops. Music played quietly and Swerve polished a glass absently behind the bar.

"It's not much right now, but it's a process, y'know?" Swerve grinned momentarily, his face falling as he realized who stood in front of him. "Oh. If you're here to arrest me for the whole illicit drinking hole thing, I, uh–"

"What?" Rodimus smiled in confusion, glancing at Drift. "No, no. I'm just here for a drink. A date, even."

Swerve looked at Rodimus, then at Drift, then back at Rodimus, musing on the word date. He took a deep breath and cupped his hands around his mouth. "Yo, Whirl! You lose! Have fun payin' Trailbreaker's tab!"

A familiar staticy voice came from behind a booth, accompanied by a wildly waved claw. "Shove it up your aft, Swerve!"

"...Excuse me?" Drift leaned in, frowning a little.

"Oh! Well, I'm officiating a bet. Y'see, Whirl said you two were just fragging for the hell of it, but Trailbreaker? He said there was something else there, y'know, like an actual relationship. But Whirl was like, absolutely 100% positive, so they made a bet, and–" Swerve looked up for a moment. Neither Drift nor Rodimus looked amused in the slightest. "And whoever loses has to pick up the other's tab," Swerve finished quietly.

"Just get me a drink, Swerve," Rodimus sighed. "Something reasonable. Not, like, over the top or anything."

"How uncharacteristically modest." Swerve poured a relatively simple-looking drink into a glass. "Are you sure you don't want something wild? D'you want me to light the rim on fire or anything?"

"Shut up, Swerve." Rodimus turned and watched Drift find an open table, rather close to Whirl and Trailbreaker's booth.

"Just asking! You're usually a lot more interesting with your drinking habits."

"I know, just... Not tonight, okay? If I come up here asking for something crazy, turn me down."

"Alright, alright. Nothin' for your boyfriend?"

"Drift doesn't drink. This is all." Rodimus tapped the table impatiently, glancing over his shoulder every few seconds.

"Gotcha, cap'n." Swerve nodded and slid the drink across the table into Rodimus' open hand. The speedster pivoted and started walking over to where Drift had settled. "Woah, woah, woah! Pay up, spoiler boy!"

Rodimus turned around again and flashed a douchey grin. "Show me an up to date and _legitimate_ liquor license?"

"...Touché. Enjoy." Swerve grimaced and went back to cleaning drinking glasses, mumbling under his breath.


End file.
